


All My Fault

by Rhain



Series: Truth and Lies [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 08:57:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20794031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhain/pseuds/Rhain
Summary: Some of the Strawhats get in over their heads after a fight during shore leave.Note: This story was written in 2014 prior to us having any knowledge of Sanji's backstory.





	All My Fault

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for a dialogue prompt meme on Tumblr. The prompts I received were "It's all your fault," "It's all my fault," "Oh fuck, OH FUCK," and "Shit, are you bleeding?"

The cook was screaming. Or yelling. Something. It was muffled, but it was also loud and it was near. It was keeping Zoro awake and had been the whole time, so he opened his mouth to yell at the bastard to stop. The fabric covering his own mouth didn’t let the sound escape any easier than it did Sanji’s. Just like how it didn’t let the light in past the blind around his eyes, or how it didn’t let his arms free from behind his back. It was strong, and thick, and tasted freshly washed.

It was all just so annoying.

The cook’s muffled noises carried through the hold they’d been dumped into. They were awful, but even more awful was the lack of noise from Brook. No yo-ho-hos, no skull joke, no music, no angles. Brook had been with them when they were grabbed, but there was no sign of him in their large cell.

A sharply different noise escaped the cook, and Zoro concentrated on telling what that difference was. They’d been locked in that ship for hours, and the cook’s voice had sounded the same the entire time. It took him a moment, but he finally realised the difference. The muffling was gone. Someone had finally gotten tired of listening to the sound of the idiot and removed the cloth from his mouth.

Sanji bit off a slew of words that Zoro didn’t understand and couldn’t follow. He might not have been able to tell what the crew of this ship was saying, but apparently Sanji knew exactly how to talk to them. If he wanted a stern boot to the gut, that was… At least that was what it sounded like the cook had received for his efforts of speaking in their North Blue language.

The coughing was quickly replaced by muffled gagging before Sanji had even gotten his breath back. They were genuinely hurting the bastard and Zoro pushed up to his knees, ready to intervene. He was rewarded with some solid kicks of his own that didn’t stop until he slumped back against the wall.

An eternity passed, and then finally the room was silent. Just the sound of his pulse rushing in his ears, and the cook struggling to breathe. It had gone from annoying to simply awful.

“Oi…” the cook rasped at him, and Zoro lifted a brow. They hadn’t replaced his gag. “This is all your fault.”

Even if Zoro had the ability to argue, he wouldn’t have. Sanji was right: this was all his fault. He was the one whose wanted poster they had been holding. He was the one that refused to back away from the sword fight when the Cook suggested they run. And he was the one who had refused help while the situation was still salvageable.

“Worthless piece of shit…” That was a little harsh, even from the cook. There was a sound like someone dragging a sack of potatoes across the deck, and then warmth at his lap. “Not even going to deny it, are you.” Obviously, he couldn’t. Sanji’s knees brushed against Zoro’s own as he got closer. He smelled like men. Stinky gross men. Not a Sanji-like smell at all.

Their foreheads touched, and Sanji took a moment to settle himself. His breath was heavy through parted lips, hot against Zoro’s face, and it stank. It stank just like the rest of the pretty bastard stank. Zoro would have flinched back away from the surprising smell if he wasn’t fully aware of it being his fault.

Sanji’s lips were tracing along his cheek, and Zoro inhaled sharply through his nose. What the fuck, Cook? Was that really the time or place? The light touches made him shiver as the trail moved to his cheekbone, then to his blindfold. Oh, that the fuck. Sanji took the fabric between his teeth and pulled until Zoro was able to see.

The cook looked like Hell. His shirt hung open, exposing his chest and the bruising that covered that too. Especially his throat. His tie was gone now, but it looked like someone had tried to choke him out using it. His hair was matted and splayed back from his face, which was bruised along the jaw. His curly brows were all messed up, and hardly look like spirals any more. It was his lips that drew focus, though. They were flushed and abused, and Zoro didn’t like the look of it one bit.

“If you promise not to say anything stupid, I’ll take the one out of your mouth, too.” He didn’t wait for a response. “Though, look who I’m talking to.”

Sanji lipped at the gag in Zoro’s mouth. Some sort of perversion of a kiss. When it was finally away, Zoro did lean in for a kiss. It was stolen and sudden, but necessary. Sanji looked and smelled awful, and he didn’t taste much better. The salt on his tongue was expected, but it still made Zoro’s stomach turn. He’d guessed right about what they had been gagging the cook with.

Sanji was returning the kiss—enjoying it, even—but the taste of copper that trickled into Zoro’s mouth was a bit of a mood killer. “Shit… Are you bleeding?”

“Shutup,” Sanji returned. “Idiot asshole. Figure out a way to get us out of these.” He bent down so that Zoro could see the elaborate shackles covering Sanji’s arms. He had them on his legs, too. They were actually somewhat ornate and beautiful, with carvings and designs. Much nicer than the simple bands of fabric that were holding Zoro.

“What the fuck…” he breathed.

Sanji stilled. “What?”

He was still blindfolded, so he had no clue how much more secure his bindings were. “Nothing. How the Hell did you even get across the floor.”

“What, like you’re so much stronger than me that—“

“Shutup and turn around Curly Cook.”

“You say the sweetest things, Shitty Swordsman. But are you sure this is the time or place?” He was putting on a stupid voice, but he did listen and turn around.

Zoro examined the bindings on Sanji’s wrists to see what sort of key they needed. He was surprised when he discovered that they didn’t appear to need any. The latch was just out of finger’s reach for the blond. “Oh,” he said.

“What?”

“Nothing, shutup and stay still while I work this out.” Zoro turned around so they were back to back, found the latch he’d seen, and pushed it to free Sanji’s arms.

“Oh,” Sanji said, agreeing with Zoro’s sentiment. That was… Well, it was remarkably easy, if you had the sight to look for it. The cook reached up and removed the blindfold from around his eyes before turning back to face Zoro. He opened his mouth to say something, but paused, staring at the carvings on the golden binds. “Oh,” he breathed again, this time seeming lost in a fog.

“Oi, don’t get distracted so easily. Untie me.”

Sanji didn’t even comment on the simple restraints as he went to work on them. Once his hands were free, Zoro reached down and duplicated the efforts on his ankles. He turned back to see if the cook had figured out the latch to free his legs, but Sanji was just staring at them. “They need a key.”

Zoro didn’t see a keyhole, but Sanji must have. He shrugged. “Take the swords away from the swordsman, take the legs away from the red leg fighter. At least we weren’t caught by total idiots.” He paused when Sanji didn’t say anything, and shifted. “Oi… Cook. I’m so—“

“It’s all my fault,” Sanji cut him off with, and Zoro was confused. He waited for Sanji to elaborate, but the cook was biting his tongue.

“Whatever. We don’t have time for this.” With little else to be done for it, Zoro bent down and scooped Sanji up over his shoulder.

“This is so undignified,” Sanji muttered, and it made Zoro smirk a little bit. He wasn’t protesting, because he knew he couldn’t run on his own. Sometimes your crew mates had to do what you couldn’t do for yourself.

“When we get back to the Sunny, I’ll just dump you with the rest of the lumpy sacks of potatoes.”

“I’m not lumpy!”

“But you are a sack of potatoes?”

“I hate you.”

Brook met them at the stairwell. His skull was cracked, and his afro had a solid part straight down one side. Around his feet were the crew of the bounty hunters. They were all either knocked out or bleeding out or some combination of both.

The Sunny was right there, just pulling up along the port side. Luffy was the first one to make it to the other ship, having flung himself across. Next was Chopper, who was holding all three of Zoro’s swords. Looked like there was little else to be done. An unsatisfying, easy escape. Zoro nodded a ‘good job’ to Brook, set Sanji back down on his bound legs, and walked to retrieve his swords from Chopper.

The cook leaned against the mast while he took in the face of each downed enemy. He seemed unconvinced that it was over until Zoro cleanly sliced through the bindings on his legs. Only then did he relax enough to light a cigarette.

“Is that gold?” Nami wanted to know from where she was leaning over the rail of the Sunny.

Sanji didn’t answer her, choosing instead to start walking up the deck, kicking over corpses as he went and taking a long hard look at their faces. That was odd. Since when did Sanji have the mental fortitude to ignore a request from one of his beloved ladies? Zoro shrugged and chucked both sides of the bindings up to her on Sunny’s deck, then walked to Sanji’s back. What was he up to?

Nami was saying something about the quality of the gold, and Robin cut in with talk about the strange writing. When Brook advised them there was more below deck where Sanji and Zoro had been, they sent Luffy and Chopper to check it out.

“You know we can leave now, right?” Zoro’s words were casually gentle. Sanji’s behavior was putting him on edge.

Sanji finally stopped walking next to the man who looked like the captain. His breathing looked laboured, but he was in fact breathing. He was wearing a golden helmet engraved with more weird words, and he tipped his head back to look up at Sanji through it. “You have your father’s eyes,” he said, and then laughed horribly.

Sanji didn’t even falter. One hand reached back for a sword on Zoro’s hip without even looking. He pulled it without asking permission, and then shoved the blade through the bastard’s throat even before Zoro had a chance to realise which sword it was. Wado was removed cleanly, and then handed back to a confused Zoro. Usopp and Franky, who were both watching from the Sunny, each went silent at Sanji’s actions.

“Now we can leave,” Sanji corrected.

“Gun!” Usopp yelled.

“Move!” Franky commanded at the exact same time.

Zoro didn’t have time to see where the threat it was coming from. He just placed himself at the cook’s back. Suddenly, he was falling into the blond idiot, his weight taking them both down.

“Oh fuck, oh FUCK—CHOPPER!”

Sanji yelling was the last thing Zoro heard before he finally got a chance to take that nap. Weird how it didn’t seem as loud as it had before. He must have just gotten used to the sound of it.


End file.
